The Darkness Within
by Gohan Roxas
Summary: Follows the adventures of the Twelfth Doctor as he journeys through time and space with friends, both old and new. But a danger lurks... A danger that is brand-new, but was always there... OC Doctor, some OC companions. Rated T for violence, language and themes.
1. Number 12

_**I had an idea for this a while back, before my computer crashed about two months ago, and had started writing it, but, of course, I lost it when my computer crashed. So, out of boredom, I've started it again. Enjoy!**_

The bow-tied man grimaced in pain as he leant against the centre console of the room. Something was different this time. The process was far more painful than it usually was, and it was always painful. It felt almost like something…_strong_ had left him.

He limped towards a screen on the centre console and looked at it, taking in his new features. Short, spiky blonde hair, green eyes, and…was one of his ears _pointed_?

"That's new," he remarked. Then he stopped, clutching his own throat. "Well… I've got a deep voice. That's good. It means no confusion about whether or not I'm a boy or a girl. No Professor Oak moments here." He chuckled at his own joke as he again looked at his reflection.

"Oh, marvellous! This chin is _far _better than the last one. Not as…jutty. Is 'jutty' a word? I'm not sure. Well, I guess it is now. I'm rambling. Do I do that now?"

The room shuddered suddenly, throwing the man to the ground. He grimaced in pain as he landed. "I think I've had enough pain for one day, thanks, love!"

Wincing, the man got up and moved to the wooden, out-of-place-seeming doors; with a flourish, he opened them, taking in the scene in front of him.

And it wasn't a good one.

"Ah," he said worriedly. "This is bad. Very bad."

Before him lay a city in ruins. Rubble dotted the streets in every direction, accompanied by the occasional dead tree. One thing, however, stood out to the man's attention. The tall clock tower, its hands stuck at 12 o'clock.

It was Big Ben.

"London?" he demanded of no-one in particular. "What?"

He suddenly lurched forwards and fell on the hard ground. "Oi!" he shouted as he turned. The blue box behind him began to emit a groaning noise, almost a screech. It appeared almost like it was in limbo, then it vanished.

"Where are you going?!" the man roared into the sky. "I'm still here!"

There was a screaming from down the street. The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a curious device. He flicked a switch on it and it emitted a squealing noise. He juggled the device once before pocketing it again. "That's my cue!" With that, he bolted towards the sound.

**12**

Fifteen human hostages, in the possession of those metallic devils. Desmond Crawley hated the situation, and the fact that they had to sit there and watch, their guns not even raised. His finger latched involuntarily onto the trigger.

"Oi!" a gruff voice growled at him as a man slapped his arm. "The plan is to observe, _then_ attack. We have to wait."

"I know that, but…"

"Look," the man said in an attempt to placate the junior soldier. "I want to light those bastards up as much as you do, Crawley, but we have to follow the plan."

Desmond nodded sullenly. "Yes, sir."

The other man chuckled. "You can call me Vince, you know."

For the first time in days, Desmond cracked a smile. "Sure thing, Vince."

"We've got movement from the other alley," one of the other soldiers reported.

"Desmond, check it out," Vince ordered.

Desmond nodded and grabbed his binoculars. He would not – could not – believe what his eyes saw. It was a man in a tweed suit, complete with bow tie.

"What is it?" a man asked.

Desmond chuckled disbelievingly. "You wouldn't believe me." He handed the binoculars to Vince.

The older man took in the newcomer and almost laughed aloud. "Who the hell is he meant to be?"

"Looks like we're about to find out," Desmond replied, pointing.

The newcomer had reached the area where the hostages were being held. He bravely (or stupidly, depending on how one looked at it) grabbed one of the hostages and told them all to run. Startled, they did. The man then turned around and faced something beyond the walls of the alley. The soldiers couldn't see what it was, but they had an inkling.

"Hello again," the newcomer greeted in a calm tone.

There was a silence from all corners.

"Oh, come on. Don't give me those blank looks. You know exactly who I am. I must say…" He started to wander around, his arms crossed. "I must say that this is the last place I expected to see you. I'm in shock." He chuckled slightly. "I'm at a loss…as to why you're even here at all." His calm demeanour vanished, and he stared balefully at what was in front of him. His hands, now at his sides, balled into fists. Whoever this guy was, he was cross. "I have beaten you far too many times than I can count. I have told you over and over again to stop trying to take this planet, but do you listen? No. Of course you don't. Because listening to someone other than yourselves is ridiculous. You only listen to each other because you truly believe that _you _are the only intelligent species out there. Well, I've got news for you. You're not. Because I'm here now." He waved. "Hello."

There was a brief pause before a mechanical voice rang out, one that chilled even hardened Vince to the bone.

"_We know who you are._"

"Oh, that's good," the man said cheekily. "For a while there, I was thinking I was gonna have to introduce myself all over again."

"_You are the Predator._"

The man said nothing.

"_You are the Oncoming Storm_," another, more high-pitched voice proclaimed.

The man did not move.

"_You are the Destroyer of Worlds_."

"You forgot one," the man interrupted coldly. "I am the one thing you fear."

"_You are the Doctor, and you will be exterminated!_"

The man held out his arms. "Well, come on! If you're gonna do it, then do it!"

There was silence.

"DO IT!" the man roared.

"_Exterminate!_" the chorus came.

"Oh, to hell with it!" Desmond snarled as he ran into the clearing.

"Desmond!" Vince yelled after him, but the younger man paid no heed. He ran into the square and started firing his gun.

Vince muttered a curse and raised his own weapon. "Come on, let's go. If we don't, Crawley's as good as dead!" He roared and bolted out of the alleyway. The other soldiers followed, firing their guns as they ran.

**12**

The next five minutes were all a blur to the man known as the Doctor. One minute he was waiting to be killed, the next there were soldiers surrounding him, garbed in ragged old camouflage gear and toting hi-tech weapons. They fired at their targets with precise aim, killing anything that stood in range.

Once the carnage had settled, all those who were going to kill him were dead, as were three of the soldiers.

One of the soldiers, the first one who came running out of the alleyway nearby, was standing next to the Doctor. He was tall, broad-shouldered and had dirty blonde hair. His blue eyes were filled with a conviction unlike any he'd ever seen before.

"You alright?" a grizzled man growled at him from nearby.

The Doctor looked at him. "Oh, yeah, fine. Well, I'm not dead, which is good, eh?"

The man huffed and walked off to talk to some of his other men.

"What was all that?" a young man asked him. The Doctor turned to see the first soldier, the one he'd been looking at so closely for God-only-knows what reason.

"All what?" the Doctor asked back.

"You know…" He started performing a bad imitation of the enemy's voices. "You are the Predator, the Oncoming Destroyer, blah blah blah…"

"Oh, that! Yeah, that's what they call me."

"Who? The Tin?"

"The who?" the Doctor demanded.

"The Tin. Those things we just saved you from."

"You mean the Daleks."

"Daleks?" The man looked confused. "What are those?"

The Doctor was about to explain when the gruff man from before came up to them and clapped his hand onto his tweed-garbed shoulder. "You're comin' with us, mate."

"To where?"

"HQ. The boss says she really wants to see a man called the Doctor."

"She?" the Doctor asked, confused.

The man laughed. "You'll see soon enough. Desmond," he said to the young soldier, "you escort our guest. I'll be out front."

"Gotcha, Vince," the man replied, following his superior officer.

The Doctor had no idea what was going on. So much so that he remained clamped to the spot.

The young soldier named Desmond turned back once he realised that his charge wasn't following him. "You coming or what?"

The Doctor looked up at him. "What? Oh, sorry! Yes. Off we go." He followed the platoon to…wherever it was they were going.

_**Please REVIEW! Because maybe, just maybe, it might motivate me to keep going with my other Doctor Who fic. Not that I'm bribing you or anything *shifty eyes***_


	2. Old Friends with New Faces

_**I'm on a roll with this fic, I really am. Now, an old friend of the Doctor makes a return in this chapter? Wanna guess who?**_

Where they were going turned out to be an underground base, like a nuclear bunker. The Doctor spotted a familiar logo on the entrance: a stylised globe with 'UNIT' inscribed over it. The whole thing, however, had been crossed out with black spray paint, and under it was written, in the same paint, 'Earth Resistance Force: London Branch'.

"Welcome to ERF HQ, Doctor," the man named Vince proclaimed with heavy irony as they entered.

The Doctor looked around with half-feigned interest. "There are worse names. At least you didn't call yourselves 'the Avengers'."

Desmond looked at him, a smile on his face. "Well, we don't have any Norse gods or billionaire playboys with hi-tech suits of armour, do we?"

"Haha! I think I like you already, Desmond!" the Doctor grinned.

Vince led them into a wide, simplistic room. The room housed a long conference table and metal, uncomfortable-looking chairs surrounded it. The walls were unadorned, except for a repetition of the replacement of the UNIT logo with the name of the ERF.

"Wait here," Vince murmured. "I'll go talk to the boss. Desmond, you stay with him."

Desmond gave a somewhat mocking salute and sat down on a bench against the wall as Vince went into the next room.

The Doctor again took in his surrounding, the interest fully feigned this time. There was a map of London on the wall, shaded mostly in red, with small green patches within all the red.

"Ma'am," the Doctor heard Vince's respectful words through the concrete. Clearly, his hearing had improved. "I've brought the Doctor. He's in the next room."

If there was a response from the enigmatic 'boss', the Doctor didn't hear it. He went back to his staring at the map on the wall.

"Well, where is he?" an all-too-familiar voice demanded of Vince from behind him.

"Right there," Vince replied, presumably pointing at the Doctor's bow-tied form.

The Doctor turned, and his hearts nearly stopped. Standing before him was a pretty, dark-skinned woman, with a steely determination in her eyes. A readiness.

"Bloody hell…" he murmured, and caught himself. Did he swear now? Was that a thing?

The woman walked up to him and stared up at him. He was taller than her…again. "You can't be the Doctor. The Doctor's taller than you. Spiky brown hair. Brown or blue suit. Trainers. Ridiculous brown coat."

"Oi! The coat was _not _ridiculous!" the Doctor argued reflexively.

The woman's eyes widened, but the anger was still there. "If you _are_ the Doctor…"

"I am!"

"Don't interrupt!" she shouted, holding up one finger. The Doctor shut up, staring at the finger. "If you really are the Doctor, then tell me something that only the Doctor would know about me."

"Just one thing?" the Doctor looked at her. "How about this much? Doctor Martha Jones, I first met you while you were still an intern. The hospital we were in ended up on the moon because the Judoon were hunting for an alien criminal. Later, I took you to meet William Shakespeare, and we had some trouble with alien witches. Then I lost you in the city of New New York in the future, but I found you again. Lots of other things happened, most of which I'd rather forget, but one more thing… You, Martha Jones, spent an entire year roaming the planet…planting the seeds of the end of the Master's tyrannical rule… All in a year that never happened."

She stared at him, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Oh my God… Doctor…"

He smiled. "Hello again, Martha Jones."

Laughing through her tears, she hugged him. He returned the hug gratefully, laughing with genuine happiness.

She detached herself and looked at him disbelievingly. "But… How do you look so different?"

"Martha," he said reproachfully, "I'm pretty sure we've been over this. We Time Lords don't die, we regenerate. Change who we are. Well…" He put his hands in his pockets. "I've done it twice since we last met, and this…" He gestured to himself. "…was the end result."

"Wow…" She looked him up and down. "It's not all that bad. Although…" She tugged at his bow tie.

"Yeah, that's a leftover from my previous regeneration. I was like a nine-year-old a lot of the time! You wouldn't have been able to put up with me. Also, my chin was just so…jutty.

"Jutty?" Martha chuckled. "That's not a word."

"It's not?" the Doctor asked, disappointed. "Oh well. I had an inkling that it wasn't anyway. You get the idea, though. My chin was _ridiculous_. All in all, I was like a bloody giraffe."

Martha laughed.

"What?"

"Some things never change, eh?"

He grinned. "Clearly not. For both of us. Martha Jones, Protector of the Earth. You're certainly living up to that title. Although…" He looked around. "Where's Mickey?"

Martha's face fell. "The Daleks have captured him. They're holding him in Canary Wharf."

The Doctor looked at her with sympathy brimming in his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

She nodded, thanking him for his worry.

"So, two questions," the Doctor continued in an attempt to change the subject slightly. "1) Why is everyone calling the Daleks 'the Tin'? And 2) Canary Wharf?"

Martha looked up at him, the determination back in her eyes. "The Tin is a street name for the Daleks. The troops use it to put themselves at ease."

"Well, I can understand that, but Desmond here only knew them as the Tin."

She wobbled her head around in a noncommittal gesture. "Some people here have had some traumatic experiences with the Daleks, and their brains seem to shut out the word 'Dalek'." She shrugged. "I dunno for sure, though. I'm not a psychologist."

"Neither am I," the Doctor grinned.

She grinned back, and for just a moment, the Martha Jones he once knew was back. "As for your other question, the Daleks have their base at Canary Wharf. They're working on something there. We don't know what. Any spies we send in there never come back."

The Doctor looked down, trying to figure out what the Daleks could possibly want that was in Canary Wharf. He shuffled through all the painful memories of the day of the three-way battle between the old Torchwood, the Cybermen and the Cult of Skaro. He very quickly avoided the memories of Rose nearly being claimed by the Void, only to be caught by Pete and teleported to his reality.

His head shot up. Void. That was it! "I know what they want!" he shouted.

"What?" Martha asked.

"A long time ago, not long before I met you, there was a battle at Canary Wharf, involving the Cybermen and the Daleks…specifically the Cult of Skaro. In the battle millions of Daleks were thrown into the Void, sort of a…universe of pure emptiness. You see, Canary Wharf sits on a weak-point of this universe, making it easy to access the other universes – the other realities – and the Void. There's a chance – a very slim chance, mind – that the Daleks that were thrown into the Void survived. And if they did…"

"…the Daleks here would have access to an army even greater than the one they have now," Martha finished in a dead voice.

The Doctor nodded.

"We'd be burnt to cinders if that happened!" Vince lamented in a far-too-loud voice.

Desmond was nodding forlornly. "We wouldn't stand a chance."

The Doctor looked at them all; the corner of his lips curled into a slight smile.

"Doctor?" Martha asked, obviously having seen the smile.

"Vince and my good mate Desmond are right. If the Daleks in the Void are still alive, and the Daleks here manage to gain access to them, you guys will be as good as dead. Which is why we have to stop them before they can."

"How?" Desmond asked. "Canary Wharf's a bloody fortress. We can't blast our way in, and we definitely can't sneak in."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Human beings, always so sceptical. It's infuriating." He looked directly at Desmond. "My ship can get us into Canary Wharf undetected. I'll be in and out in a matter of seconds, and the Daleks won't be your problem anymore."

"No way," Martha snapped. "I won't let you endanger yourself like that!"

He turned to her. "Won't _let_?"

Martha nodded. "At least not alone." She looked at Vince. "You and your team go with him."

"Yes ma'am."

The Doctor beamed at Martha. "Martha Jones, I could kiss you."

She blushed, but held up one hand, showing her wedding ring. "Sorry, but I'm married."

He shrugged. "So am I."

"What?" She was shocked.

He tapped the side of his nose. "That's a secret. Right!" He turned to Desmond, who now stood at attention. "Take me to my TARDIS, my good man," he ordered in a fake pompous voice.

Desmond tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh. "Yes sir."

_***avoids all the Martha hate* Yeah, I put Martha in here. Why? Well, Rose is still in Pete's World, Donna doesn't remember the Doctor, and I really didn't see Amy or Rory leading a revolution in post-apocalyptic London. I definitely couldn't put Clara because we know nothing about her at all.**_

_**Anyway, now that's over, whaddya say you REVIEW this chapter? Please?**_


	3. Nemesis

_**Sorry it's been a while between chapters, I'm just feeling really uninspired right now. Anyway, here comes Chapter 3!**_

The area looked exactly like the rest of ruined London, but the Doctor was looking around as if something important was nearby.

"Uh, Doctor…" Desmond said nervously. "There's nothing here."

"Oh, it's here alright. It's just hiding." He dug into his jacket pocket and produced a small key, which he held up high. "I'm here!" he shouted.

"Doctor!" Vince protested. "The enemy could hear you!"

The Doctor scoffed. "Not bloody likely." He again turned his face to the sky. "The big, bad Daleks can't get you, darling! I promise!"

There was an odd screeching noise; the Doctor grinned. "She heard me."

"She?" Desmond asked. "Who's she?"

The Doctor smirked at him. "You'll find out soon enough."

The screeching continued, growing in volume. Soon everyone noticed a strange blue box begin to appear. There was a light on top of it, and a sign that read 'Police Public Call Box'.

"What the hell is that meant to be?" Vince demanded.

The Doctor gave him an annoyed look. "That's my ship. The TARDIS. That's what's gonna get us into Canary Wharf."

"That?" Vince scoffed. "There are five of us, Doctor. No way are we all gonna fit into that."

The Doctor rolled his eyes skywards. "Humans," he said despairingly. Without another word he traipsed up to the box and used the key in his hands to open the door, which he held open. He bowed ironically. "After you, Captain Sceptic."

Vince eyed him suspiciously, but walked towards the box, signalling Desmond and the two others in the group to follow. They did so, albeit reluctantly.

"Seeing is believing," the Doctor grinned at them as they walked past.

They saw, but they didn't believe. Inside the box was a full room, larger than the conference room back at ERF HQ. The interior was futuristic, complete with a complex-looking centre console on a raised platform.

"My God…" one of the soldiers remarked.

"It's bigger…" Desmond started.

"On the inside?" the Doctor finished cheerfully. "Yes it is! Don't you just love it?" He rushed into the room and moved to the giant centre console. "It's alright, love. No problems this time."

"Are you talking to the ship?" Vince asked incredulously.

"Yes. I am," the Time Lord replied without a single trace of embarrassment.

"Why?" Desmond wanted to know. "I mean, it's not like it can talk back."

"It did, once. I sometimes think it would've been better if it hadn't."

The soldiers all eyed the Doctor, thinking they'd thrown in with a madman.

"Right! Canary Wharf! Off we go!" the Doctor shouted, flicking switches and pulling levers. "Hang on tight!"

Before the soldiers could register this warning, the room began to shake violently. The two members of Vince's team fell on their backs, while Vince himself, and Desmond, managed to hang onto the handrail.

The Doctor was laughing. "Sorry! The first trip can be a doozy!" He laughed again.

The room suddenly stopped shaking, causing everyone who wasn't already on the floor, except for the Doctor himself, to fall onto it.

"Here we are!" The Doctor started fiddling with the controls. "I'm shutting her down completely, apart from the cloaking and extrapolator shielding, so even if the Daleks find the TARDIS, they won't be able to get in." He moved quickly to the door, pulling it open swiftly. Without another word, he slipped out the doors.

Vince pounded the side of his head to stop the ringing. "If we die in here, I'm gonna kill him."

Desmond failed to conceal a smile at the remark.

**12**

For a Dalek base, Canary Wharf was almost desolate. Rubble was scattered across the hallways, and there wasn't a Dalek in sight. You could swing a Cyberman around in a tight room and not hit a single Dalek.

"That's odd," the Doctor remarked, scratching his head as he walked down the hallway leading to what once was the Ghost Shift room.

"What is?" Desmond asked nervously.

"I can't see a single Dalek."

"That's not exactly a bad thing," one of the soldiers, one of the ones the Doctor didn't know the name of, smiled.

"It could be," the Doctor replied, his voice dead serious. "This might be a trap."

"In that case…" Vince stopped in his tracks and flicked some switches on his energy weapon.

"Sir, what are you doing?" Desmond asked warily.

"Prepping the gun for an overload."

"_What?!_" the Doctor shouted. "With that kind of weapon, you won't have time to get clear from the explosion!"

"I know," Vince said calmly, looking the Doctor straight in the eye. "The Daleks took my family, Doctor. I have nothing left."

"They took my family, too! You don't see me throwing my life away!"

"I always said, Doctor," Vince continued as if the Doctor hadn't interrupted him. "I always said that if I was going down, I'd take them with me. Now I'm gonna do just that. And nothing you can say is gonna stop me."

The Doctor stared at him, looking only briefly at the reinforced steel doors that led into the Ghost Shift room. His head dropped. "Fine." He placed one hand on Vince's beefy shoulder. "It's been my honour."

Vince saluted. "And mine, Doctor."

The Doctor breathed deeply and stepped into the room.

Again, no Daleks. Only one figure, staring at a plain white wall. It sat between two large levers, and it was a curious sight. The bottom half was that of a Dalek; the top was humanoid, shrivelled and old, and a blue eye shone eerily from the wizened forehead.

"How many times do you have to die?" the Doctor asked, a sneer in his voice that even surprised himself.

The figure turns on its wheels, and the Doctor's fears were confirmed.

"You change your face so often, and yet the arrogance and hatred never die in your expression, do they, Doctor?" Davros asked in his altered voice.

The Doctor did not reply, staring balefully at the empty eye sockets of the creator of the Daleks.

Davros smirked, a horrifying sight. "You are wondering how I arrived here, aren't you? After you left me to die during the last failed invasion…"

"I offered to save you," the Time Lord spat, "and you refused. I offered you one small moment of armistice, and you preferred to burn!"

"There it is! The fire in your eyes, the Time Lord who slaughtered millions, he has returned at last!" Davros tilted his gross head to behold the team the Doctor had brought with him. "I see that you still consort with these…disgusting humans…" he spat.

Vince bristled, gripping his gun harder, his finger on the button that would send the Daleks sky high.

For his part, the Doctor's hands balled into fists. He was enraged. Somewhere within his mind, he heard a deep, throaty laugh; a sinister laugh. He stopped. The laugh was in his voice.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Doctor?" Davros sneered.

"The end." The Doctor stared balefully at his enemy. "The final end to the Time War. It ends here and now. You've lost."

Davros cackled insanely. "Do you really think that you and a ragtag group of…" He said the next word with a sneer. "…_humans_…can stop me?"

The Doctor had an unshed tear in his eye. He hated himself for what he was about to do. Too many had died for him…and now he was going to let one more do the same. "Yes I am." He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and activated it, the device emitting a high-pitched squeal. "Now, Vince!"

Vince took the hint, tears in his own eyes as well. He stepped aside and pressed the button on his gun, priming its final charge. Around them, the thrumming noise of the TARDIS's engines could be heard.

"Exterminate them!" Davros ordered two Dalek guards who had appeared. They complied, firing their weapons at the two unnamed soldiers. The blasts hit, temporarily showing the soldiers' skeletons as they screamed in agony. Eventually, they died.

"Vince!" Desmond shouted, looking at his friend, pain in his eyes.

"Go!" Vince roared. "Go with the Doctor! Save Mickey and take him back to Martha! The prisoners are under the building, I'm sure of it! GO!"

The Doctor looked mournfully at the gruff man. "I'm sorry."

Vince smirked one last time. "Just go."

The TARDIS materialised around the Doctor and Desmond, then immediately took off again, headed for the basement of the building. Just as it vanished, Vince's gun exploded, and the top half of Canary Wharf vanished without a trace.

_**Yeahh, the end of this kinda sucks. I was gonna have Vince's gun blow up the whole building, until I remembered I'd put Mickey in Canary Wharf as a prisoner. I can't kill Mickey!**_

_**Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW!**_


	4. Threads

_**I am SOOO sorry that I haven't updated this fic in a long time. I just haven't had any ideas for a while, until I started thinking on the bus ride home from uni. Well, here's chapter four!**_

* * *

The Doctor had made the heart-wrenching decision not to go under Canary Wharf in search of the human prisoners. Instead, he landed somewhere nearby. Desmond was holding in his tears, and the Doctor knew that his own eyes were welling up as well.

When the TARDIS materialised, he stepped away from the console and put a hand on Desmond's shoulder. Surprisingly, the man didn't shrink away from the hand. "I didn't want him to do that. But when a human puts their mind to something, they seem to latch on to the idea and never change it."

Desmond nodded sadly. "I know. Vince always said that if he was going out, he'd be taking the Tin…the Daleks…with him."

"And he did." Silently, the Doctor stepped out of the doors.

The scene surprised him. Several ERF members stood around the TARDIS, smiling a little. What surprised him the most, though, was that Martha was standing there, an injured-looking, dark-skinned man draped over her shoulder. The man was smiling slightly. "You always were the type to have too much flair."

"Mickey!" the Doctor grinned and put his hand on the injured man's shoulder. "Hope I didn't inconvenience you too much."

"No more than I already was, Doctor."

Martha's face was sad. "I heard everything. Vince turned his radio on when you got inside. That's how we knew where Mickey was."

The Doctor nodded silently. "He was a hero."

"And he'll be treated like one. For now, though, we should head back. I've organised a little party back at HQ. Cook's prepared a smorgasbord of food, since we don't know what you like."

He grinned. "You're learning."

"When didn't I?" She smiled right back, even with the pain in her eyes.

* * *

The party was a fairly small affair. The Doctor, Martha, Desmond and a few others. Mickey was in the infirmary for safety reasons. It was here that the Doctor discovered he now had a sudden affinity for Italian food, though the smell of garlic seemed to make his stomach turn.

Martha had insisted that he tell her everything that had happened since that time he'd saved Mickey and herself from that Sontaran. So he did. He spoke of Amelia Pond and Rory Williams, of River Song and the Silence. Of the mystery wrapped in an enigma that was Clara Oswald. Martha remained mostly silent throughout, smiling and laughing at the appropriate moments, her expression becoming sad at others, especially when he told her of Amy and Rory meeting their ends at the hands of the Weeping Angels.

After a fairly humorous story involving the Sontarans and a botanical garden, Martha gave Desmond a pointed look; the man nodded and grabbed a roughly-wrapped parcel. "We've got a little parting gift for you, Doctor," she smiled at him. "We figured you'd want to get out of that jacket."

"Oh yes," the Doctor agreed quickly. "That and the bow tie. I can't believe I used to think this was cool." He tugged at the thing.

Martha chuckled.

Desmond put the parcel in front of him and he opened it. Within was a pair of grey-black jeans and a black hooded jacket. Along with it was a plain white T-shirt. In the past, back when his wardrobe was covered with question marks and he rolled his 'R's ridiculously when he said the word 'Ragnarok', he would have turned his nose up at this sort of apparel. Now, though, he loved it. "I like it," he said outwardly.

"Still one bit missing," Desmond smiled, opening a cardboard box, which contained a pair of trainers. Plain white, at that. They were accompanied by a pair of grey socks.

"Those will work nicely," the Doctor grinned. "I have a feeling I'll be running more than ever now."

"Well, go change!" Martha smiled at him.

"Alright, alright!" He grabbed the clothes and went into a nearby room to change. Surprisingly, the clothes fit perfectly. He walked back out, his old clothes bundled under his arm. "You like it?" He did a twirl, causing Martha to laugh.

"I love it."

The Doctor checked his watch, which he'd kept on. "Ooh, I better get going. I'm sure you and Mickey have plenty of catching up to do." He smirked.

Martha blushed a little and hugged him. "Goodbye, Doctor."

He hugged her back. "It's not goodbye, Martha Jones. Just farewell." And with that cheesy line, he walked out of the ERF HQ and back to the TARDIS.

* * *

_London  
__May 2003_

The brown-haired girl sat alone on the swing set. Her playmates had gone home ages ago, but she always seemed to linger, imagining herself sometimes as a princess to be rescued by a dashing prince, other times as the one doing the rescuing.

She heard an odd groaning noise and looked around for the source. Eventually she saw it. It was a big blue box with the word 'Police' on it. From within came a blonde-haired man in a black hooded jacket and grey jeans. The man looked around and murmured something to himself before stepping back into the box. The girl doubted he was a policeman. He didn't look like one.

To her amazement, the groaning noise returned and the box seemed to disappear then reappear, before vanishing entirely. Her hazel eyes widened. Who was that man? Was he a wizard, like in those _Harry Potter_ books she'd grown to love so much? Was that why that strange box could disappear?

"Jessica? Jessica!" a woman's voice called out. The girl turned to see her mother. "Oh, Jessica. You need to come home after you've been playing. Your father and I were worried sick."

The girl shrugged. "I like my own company."

Her mother smiled a little and took her hand. "You're an odd little girl. But we wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

_London  
__May 2013__  
_

The brown-haired woman trotted along the busy street, the music in her headphones barely audible over the bustling crowd. She crossed the road and happened to look to her right when she reached the other side. She stopped. Was that…

A blue box sat further down the road.

She stared at it, blinking. Then something she really didn't expect.

A blonde man sauntered up to the box and slipped inside. The box groaned and vanished slowly. No-one else seemed to notice it.

The woman's heart was beating at an insane pace. That was impossible! It hadn't changed since…

"Jess!" a familiar voice said, and a hand landed on her shoulder. She pulled the headphones out and looked at the woman behind her.

"Steph," she breathed.

The other woman tilted her head. "What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jess turned back to where the blue box had been moments before. "I think I might've."

* * *

_**Let's play 'Spot the New Companion'!**_

_**Again, sorry for the long wait.**_


End file.
